“In the end these things matter most:
How well did you love?
How fully did you live?
How deeply did you let go?”
– Jack Kornfield, Buddha’s Little Instruction Book
Every Sunday after mass my family walked across the street from St. Raymond’s church to Schaefer’s bakery. My mother bought her five kids jelly doughnuts, the gooey sweetness woofed down even before we walked out the door. But my mother also held a pink box closed with twine. At home she poured glasses of milk and opened the box. The cinnamon, buttery smell of the crumb caked filled the room and our stomachs.
We were sent outside to play until 1:00, when my mother called us back in for Sunday lunch – the one day of the week our family could afford roast beef. We fought over the crispy onions in the pan, fought over the burnt end pieces, fought over things other than what bothered us the most.
Still full from lunch, we made grilled cheese with the softest white bread and the creamiest fake cheese. After that we made Jiffy Pop popcorn and settled in to watch our favorite nature show, Wild Kingdom. The parents gave up the fight, the kids stopped bickering, the dogs fell asleep in our laps.
I wanted a life of Jiffy Pop Sundays. I wanted the sweetness of jelly doughnuts to fill my heart forever. I wanted to let the animal within me run wild and free.
I still love Sundays the best. The day I unplug and let joy pop into every moment, the day I spend time in the sweetness of gratitude, the day I give up the fight within, and instead let my wild jelly-filled heart run free.
